


skylines

by inexhaustible



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! VRAINS
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pro Duelists, Gen, Orphanage Fluff, can be read as pre-relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-12
Updated: 2017-06-12
Packaged: 2018-11-13 03:03:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11175642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inexhaustible/pseuds/inexhaustible
Summary: Because despite the success and the glamour, Yusaku can't shake the feeling that he's missed something, that he's forgotten how to be someone outside of just Playmaker, the pro duelist.Go reminds him of someone he might have been, once.





	skylines

**Author's Note:**

> sorry this is messy and probably laden with errors but i wanted to get something out there for this fandom! go is a gift tbh and he deserves more love thanks. this is gen but u can read as shippy also lmao. it's a messy au where yusaku never gets into the knights of hanoi stuff and instead goes into pro dueling. he's less confident here, more withdrawn – hopefully it's not ultra ooc, lmao. this is kinda just a concept tho, might write more for this au if it goes well.
> 
> feedback's always appreciated! shoutout to the vrains discord.
> 
> find me @miraclefusion for all your vrains / gx needs

Here is the truth: Yusaku can’t remember.

Some of his past stays in solid constants: Shoichi, a solid presence by his side, a reminder of who he might have been. His deck, a physical catalogue of what he'd dreamed of, once. Other remnants come to him in bits and pieces – nightmares, half-forgotten, of forests and wandering and strange, virtual worlds. 

The doctors shrug, tell him there’s nothing they can do. Yusaku accepts it, because he has to, and he goes – not home, necessarily, but back to his empty apartment, swallowing down the feeling that he’s missing something, missing someone.

He throws himself into coding, learning all he can about SOL Technology and LINK VRAINS. Across his screens, superfluous data trails in an endless waterfall of assembly code into oblivion, taunting him to do more, to do better.

Still, he can’t find anything, any trace, any clues.

Eventually, he gives up, urged to rest by Shoichi, and throws himself into dueling instead. He signs up for pro league prelims under a half-assed alias: Playmaker, and thinks, maybe, that his success can help him ignore the unerring feeling of having missed something, of being meant for more. Still, something about dueling tugs at the strands of memory that haunt his dreams, so he keeps at it.

Speed Duels help, at first. They’re dangerous, seductively so – the adrenaline of the duels help Yusaku distract himself from the aching boredom that threatens to swallow him whole, and so he gets into the habit of sneaking out late at night to log on, disconnecting without fail to a disappointed Shoichi at his door.

He doesn’t ask, though, and Yusaku appreciates that more than anything. He advances steadily up the ranks of the pro league, and his nights are filled with data streams and the exhilaration of drifting through LINK VRAINS by night, evading patrol droids and prying eyes. He sleeps less and works more, and the dreams, little by little, begin to fade.

Shoichi signs on as his manager, and as he makes it further, the views start to roll in along with the money, match monetization sought after by every major advertising company worth its salt. Despite the publicity, the duels don’t excite Yusaku like he knows they used to, and it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

Still, he moves on, because he has to. He has enough in his past to weigh him down, and –

– and he’s older, now, tired of holding on to fleeting dreams and fading memories.

–

“You have a duel scheduled today,” Shoichi says, as if Yusaku isn’t already aware. He turns, taking the data pad Shoichi hands him with a grateful nod. Yusaku lets his eyes linger before glancing at the tablet in his hands, satisfied with what he sees. Shoichi seems better these days – if not healthier, then more _whole_ , more than Yusaku’s seen him in months. Shoichi crashes with him in his tiny apartment to stay closer to the hospital he visits daily, but Yusaku hears his brother’s in recovery these days, an anonymous donor from SOL sponsoring his treatment. It’s good, seeing Shoichi like this again, watching his smiles reach his eyes.

Yusaku turns his gaze to the screen in his hands, looking over the compiled data.

 _Go Onizuka_ , he reads, glancing at his record thoughtfully. _Undefeated this season, huh? Impressive._ He scrolls down, skimming through the contents of his previous tournament decks placidly. “A Gouki deck that overwhelms the opponent with strong monsters – hardly a difficult matchup.“

“I wouldn’t underestimate him,” Shoichi says, amused.

“Do you think I have a chance of losing?”

“I think,” Shoichi says, carefully, “that Go’s style of dueling might be good for you.” Yusaku’s really not sure what he’s supposed to say to that – he knows Go’s type, the Charisma Duelists who prioritize entertainment more than respecting the duel itself.

Yusaku looks over at him blankly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You could live with having some more fun, Yusaku.”

“Dueling is fun,” he replies, and Shoichi gives him a look that says he doesn’t buy it. “What?”

“Nothing,” Shoichi says, shrugging and turning away. Yusaku frowns, feeling as if he’s missed something.

–

“Playmaker,” Go says. “Let’s duel!”

Onizuka duels with a strange intensity, and Yusaku finds that he at least executes his comebacks with more finesse and strategy than any Charisma Duelist he’s dueled before. While his deck follows the same overdone themes as all the other entertainers, his monsters have solid statlines, enough for his Link Monsters to be truly formidable. For a second, Yusaku understands why Onizuka’s been undefeated. It’s enough to send a tiny thrill through him, and he finds himself getting into the duel, being sucked in by Onizuka’s charm and enthusiasm for the game.

Then, of course, he draws Cyberse Annihilation, and with a triple attack combo, he wins the match.

It’s strange, but he’s almost disappointed that the duel is over. It’s a novel feeling, and – maybe he understands what Shoichi had meant now, he thinks, catching Onizuka’s eye with a small smile.

“Good game,” he says, and he means it, for the first time in months.

“Good game,” Onizuka replies, and cameras flash as they shake hands.

–

“Yusaku.”

“Yusaku,” Shoichi repeats, snapping his fingers in front of the duelist’s face. “What’s with you?”

“Hmm?” Yusaku shakes himself off, glancing up and bringing himself back to attention at the sound of his name. “What do you mean?”

Shoichi frowns, but a thoughtful look paints its way onto his face. “You’ve been out of it since the match with Go.”

“It was a good duel,” Yusaku offers, weakly.

“Your last duel wasn’t?” It’d been a control-oriented deck, centered around locking down the opponent’s Monster Zones and depriving them of options until the deck could summon its lategame threats – an interesting opponent, to be sure, but it’d lacked the thrill Yusaku hadn’t known he’d been missing until the duel against Onizuka.

He stays silent, turning away in thought. Shoichi rolls his eyes, sliding over in front of him.

“Repeat after me,” Shoichi says, slowly. “You were right, Shoichi. I can’t believe I don’t value my best friend. But I’ve learned from my mistakes! I lov–”

Yusaku slaps a hand over his mouth, shooting him a withering gaze. The minute he moves, Shoichi starts talking again, and it’s all Yusaku can do to bury his head in his hands and pretend he’s not listening. Still, it’s good seeing Shoichi back on his feet. It brings to mind better days, summers floating by with the smell of meat on the grill.

“You should duel him again sometime,” Shoichi says. “Make friends, once in a while. It’d be good for you. He’s a good guy, if the tabloids are true.”

“Yeah,” Yusaku mutters. “We’ll see.” He’s read the reports too, knows the rumors just as well as Shoichi. _Orphans’ hero, I guess._

“The publicity would be a nice boost,” Shoichi adds, with a smug grin, and Yusaku relents.

–

“Go Onizuka,” a gruff voice says, across the line.

“Hello? This is Fujiki Yusaku – Playmaker,” he says, feeling out of place, awkward.

“Oh, I remember you! Your duel really did give me a run for my money,” Go says, and Yusaku can hear the smile in his voice.

“Yeah, it was a good duel. That’s, ah, kind of why I called today.”

“You want a rematch?”

Yusaku pauses, unsure how to proceed, but Go’s laugh rings across the line, honest and unexpected.

“I’ve been thinking about our duel for the past two weeks, Fujiki. You’re an interesting guy, running a Cyberse deck – really making a name for yourself. Listen, you can turn me down, ah – maybe you could do me a favor? Afterward, we can play a few rounds, or get lunch on me, whatever you’d want.”

Yusaku blinks, surprised. “I’m not sure I follow.”

“See, the kids at the orphanage have been begging to meet Playmaker, right? And after that duel I had with you, they’re convinced we’re pals. I really wouldn’t want to let them down, but–”

Yusaku laughs, startling even himself. “Yeah, okay. Yeah, that – that sounds good.”

“I’m glad,” Go says, relief plain in his voice. “When are you free?”

“I’m clear for the rest of this week, actually,” Yusaku says. Across the room, Shoichi whirls around in his chair, giving Yusaku a strange look.

“How does Sunday sound?” The warmth in Go’s voice is buoyant, and Yusaku hesitates for a split second. It’s been too long since he’d really spoken to anyone besides Shoichi, he thinks, picking up his tablet pen Shoichi sends him another curious look, walking towards him with a mischievous glint in his eye. Yusaku marks the day down on his calendar before replying, juggling the phone onto his shoulder to keep both it and his tablet out of Shoichi’s reach.

“Sunday’s great,” he says, briefly, shooting Shoichi a glare.

“You can meet me here,” Go says, pausing. Pages rustle in the background, and Go curses, softly, before reciting an address sheepishly across the line. “It’s the orphanage, actually.”

“That’s fine.”

“Great! I, um, I’ll see you then?”  Yusaku can hear Go’s shy smile in his voice again, and it makes him wonder. _When’s the last time I really smiled like that?_

“See you then.” He hangs up with shaky hands, turning to face Shoichi’s dazzling smile.

“Sounds like someone’s got a date,” Shoichi says, cheeky grin glued to his face.

“Save it,” Yusaku says, wearily, but he doesn’t bother to correct him.

–

The remainder of the week passes in a blur of dizzying publicity shoots and stretches of isolation in his apartment, empty and strangely cold, even with the summer haze approaching. The cityscape transforms in the humid heat into a mirage of lights and sounds that leave Yusaku winded every time he steps outside, reporters and photographers never far from his trail.

Sunday rolls around, and Yusaku’s almost – nervous.

“I’m going out,” he says, and Shoichi almost rolls off the couch in surprise, eyebrows shooting up to meet his bangs.

“You’re going out,” Shoichi repeats blankly. “Is this that date you were talking about a few days ago–”

“Bye.” Yusaku slams the door pointedly on his way out, lips quirking up in amusement despite himself.

The city is a living thing these days, huge screens plastered on every available public surface broadcasting the latest and greatest in dueling news. Gleaming new duel disks sit, lonely, on display in every electronics store Yusaku passes, kids gathering in flocks to press their hands eagerly to the cold glass and stare in awe at the newest model. _Was I ever one of them?_

– but there’s no use dwelling on the past, he tells himself. He’s made his choices.

He speeds up his pace, eager to leave the busy downtown districts behind.

Eventually, he stops in his tracks, eyes flitting upward to read the orphanage’s sign, making sure he’s got the right building before unlatching the gate and making his way towards the door.

It opens before Yusaku reaches it, and he’s suddenly face to face with Onizuka. He’s tall, and Yusaku notes, with a hint of surprise, that he looks exactly the same as his online avatar. In real life, he’s almost imposing, if not for his welcoming smile, and Yusaku suddenly feels out of place, unsure of how to handle himself outside of the comfort of his online persona to fall back onto.

“You must be Playmaker,” Go says. “Fujiki, right?”

“Yes,” he says, and Yusaku looks up in surprise as Go chuckles to himself.

“I’d expected your hair to be – ah, well, where are my manners? Come in, please – the children are dying to meet you.”

“A word of warning,” Yusaku says, hesitantly. “I’m not – not too great with children.” _Or people_ , he doesn’t say. It’s probably implied.

“Nah, don’t worry.” Go laughs, airy and easy. “Trust me, they’ll love you.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

When Go opens the door, the soft hum of noise from the room quiets down, and Yusaku enters to the weight of around twenty tiny eyes, all fixed on him. The silence is broken with a girl’s quiet gasp of wonder, and suddenly he’s bombarded with cheers and questions from all sides.

“Is that your real hair?”

“Are you really Playmaker?”

“Why do you look like an anime character? That’s so cool!”

Yusaku blinks in surprise, frozen in place for a split second before a light tap on his arm snaps him back to reality. Go turns to him, speaking softly. “Sorry, they can be overwhelming, I know –”

Yusaku smiles, slowly, shaking his head. “I – I think I’ll be okay.”

He approaches the front of the room, stuffing his hands awkwardly into his pockets. “Okay, one question at a time,” he says, with a serious voice, and the hands all fly up into the air, eager to ask.

His eyes meet Go’s, and the pleased relief he sees there is enough for him to dive in, nodding at the first child with a deep breath.

–

“Thanks for doing that,” Go says, with a wide smile, once they make their way out of the building.

His smile turns his eyes up at the corners, and Yusaku is suddenly fascinated at the ease with which Go makes any room his own, the effortless liquid charisma that screams _look at me_. Go balances his entertainer persona and his genuine personality with ease, and – Yusaku is suddenly jealous. Because despite the success and the glamour, Yusaku can't shake the feeling that he's missed something, that he's forgotten how to be someone outside of just Playmaker, the pro duelist.

Go reminds him of someone he might have been, once.

“You don’t do this much, huh?”

“No, I don’t really make a habit out of associating with children,” Yusaku retorts, breaking himself out of his thoughts, and Go snorts.

“I meant, this,” Go says, waving his hand between Yusaku and himself. “You don’t get out much, do you? I don’t mean it in a bad way, but you stare at the city like it’s the first time you’ve ever seen it.”

 _I know this city better when it’s virtual._ Yusaku pauses, because what he wants to say makes him sound like he’s – like he’s some sort of dueling hermit.

He supposes that’s what he is, and he huffs a breath of bitter laughter through his nose before replying. “I guess you’re right,” he says. “I don’t do this much.”

Go hums thoughtfully, shrugging. “Did you grow up here?”

“I –” _Don’t remember,_ he wants to say, biting back his words. “No,” he lies. “I guess in a way, it _is_ all new.”

Go’s eyes sparkle at that, and if he picks up on Yusaku’s pause, he doesn’t show it. “I’ll show you around.”

“I don’t want to trouble you –”

“It’s no trouble at all,” Go says, quickly. “Unless, of course, you’re busy, or – ah, I’d understand, pro dueling schedules and all that.” He’s giving Yusaku an out and Yusaku knows it, knows he should take it. But – something in Go’s tone reminds Yusaku of someone he’d been once, full of wide-eyed delight for the sights and sounds around him, and it fascinates and repulses him in equal measure.

It’s not a bad feeling.

“Okay,” Yusaku says, before he can talk himself out of it, and Go’s grin grows even more.

“Same time next week?” he asks, and Yusaku nods.

“I’ll be looking forward to it.”


End file.
